


Lock Your Phone

by Rubadubababyoil



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Early Queen (Band), Established Relationship, M/M, POV Outsider, Roger Taylor (Queen) Is a Good Friend, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubadubababyoil/pseuds/Rubadubababyoil
Summary: Roger was fine with his friends being in a relationship, really. He just wished he hadn't found out by seeing their nudes.
Relationships: Brian May & Roger Taylor, Brian May/Freddie Mercury, Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	Lock Your Phone

The problem with Brian being as skinny as a twig was that he was a terrible lightweight. Maybe he’d develop some tolerance for alcohol the more they got into the partying side of the business, but tonight, Roger wanted to smack him upside the head, because now _his_ night and good time had to be cut short to ensure Brian got back to their hotel safely. Someone from Mott the Hoople decided to share a bottle of vodka with Brian before the concert, and none of them had known until afterwards because he’d played just fine. Roger had been impressed by that, until Brian slumped against him in the booth at the bar and started mumbling incoherently into his shoulder. No amount of jostling and swearing made Brian sober up at all, and Roger knew that he’d slumped over on the table if he weren’t there. He really hated the thought of leaving a passed out Brian anywhere but his own hotel room, let alone in a bar with a band they didn’t know very well and in a foreign country, so Roger reluctantly accepted that he wasn’t getting laid tonight and decided to get him back to the room he shared with Freddie.

Currently, they were standing outside and waiting for their Uber. The cold air of the night snapped Brian out of it enough that he could stand on the pavement, but he was almost draped over Roger, his cheek resting against the top of his head.

Roger really, really wanted to hit him. “You prat,” he grumbled. He adjusted Brian’s arm around his shoulder and held his wrist. “You’re lucky you’re a good guitarist or else I’d leave you here.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Brian slurred. “You’re a nice person. So nice, when you wanna be.”

Roger was glad Brian couldn’t see his face now. “Am not,” he shot back, hating the rising blush on his face that he couldn’t attribute to the slight buzz he had. He forgot how earnest Brian was when he was truly sloshed. He sighed in relief when the Uber pulled up. He somehow got Brian into the car, although once they were in the backseat, his face smushed into Roger’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but he could admit that he was angrier about his own night being ruined than actually helping Brian. He’d lose his mind if anyone took advantage of one of his friends in a state like this. It was for the best.

“Too much to drink?” the Uber driver asked with a knowing smirk.

“You can say that again,” Roger sighed.

Brian just adjusted himself against him and closed his eyes.

Great. It’d be a nightmare getting him through the lobby, into an elevator, and down the hall to his room.

Then, Brian’s phone chirped with a text message.

He lifted his head, looking confused.

“I’ll get it,” Roger said. “I don’t think you can even read right now.”

Brian didn’t protest, just clumsily got his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Roger. “I’m dizzy,” he mumbled.

“Just keep your eyes closed,” Roger told him, _praying_ that he wasn’t about to deal with a sick Brian on top of everything else.

Brian put his face back into Roger’s neck.

“If you get sick on me, I swear to Christ, I’ll kick your arse,” Roger warned him. He looked down at the phone and saw it was Freddie.

Freddie ❤️: _Hey Bri where are you? We’re supposed 2 have a night in remember?_

The reason why Roger didn’t even blink at the heart emoji was that he distinctly remembered Freddie entering his number and contact name as such into Brian’s phone a few years ago with a sly, self-satisfied smile. Maybe it was a little odd that Brian never changed it, but he probably wasn’t bothered by it enough to do so.

_“Hey Fred, it’s Roger. Bri’s drunk af so I’m bringing him back 2 the hotel now. Don’t wrry”_

Roger hit send and looked down at Brian.

He was passed out.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Roger rubbed his eyes. _The life of rock ‘n’ roll,_ he thought sarcastically. His mind wandered as he watched buildings and street lights pass out the window. His brow furrowed. Wait, why were Freddie and Brian planning to have a night in? Freddie only stayed in when he wanted to rest his throat, but he didn’t complain about his voice at all tonight.

Just then, the phone chirped again.

Freddie ❤️: _Oh ok. I’ll b in the lobby 2 help u with him_

Roger was relieved, because even though Brian usually weighed as light as a feather, a drunk Brian somehow was as heavy as a sack of bricks. 

_“Thanks,”_ he responded. _“We’ll prob b there in a few mins.”_

Roger couldn’t give the phone back to Brian now, so he just held it in his hand. Hot breath fanned across his neck and Roger shivered. “You’re giving me gooseflesh, you arse,” he whispered to him.

Brian didn’t respond, the sod.

 _You know what? Fuck it._ Roger deserved to have a little fun if he wasn’t going to shag anyone. As much as Brian was always snapping pictures, he hated when pictures were taken of him without his permission, especially when he was in some sort of vulnerable state. Roger unlocked Brian’s phone and pulled up the camera. He turned on the facecam. Roger widened his eyes and stuck out his tongue while using his free hand to point at Brian, passed out with mouth open against his shoulder. Roger snapped the picture with a smirk. _Serves you right._ The flash went off, but Brian only grumbled a little. Roger wanted to make sure the picture came out well in the darkness of the back of the car, so he went into Brian’s camera roll. 

The picture was there and perfectly clear, but a preview of the next picture caught Roger’s eye. If he hadn’t been as buzzed, maybe he wouldn’t have swiped to the next picture, but curiosity got the better of him and he went to the next picture in Brian’s camera roll.

It was a picture of Freddie lying on a bed. His lips were curled into a smirk, his front teeth showing, but apprehension was in his large, dark eyes. His cheeks were pink and he was definitely shirtless, but going by his hip bones and the beginning of his happy trail, he was actually naked. One arm was over his head, palm facing upward, and the other hand was reaching down past his happy trail.

Roger choked, the blood draining from his face. “What the _fuck?”_ he whispered under the sound of the music coming from the car radio. The image of his best friend looking up at him with a sultry gaze and a hand going towards his prick was instantly _burned_ into his eye sockets and he _hated_ it. He did _not_ want to see his best friend look at him like that, even though he knew the picture wasn’t meant for him, but _Brian._

 _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,_ he thought over and over, an unpleasant chill of shock running through him. Brian had fucking nudes of Freddie? Since bloody when was this a thing?! Since when did Brian like men, anyway? Since when did Freddie stop being into bulky men and start liking a lanky beanstalk?

Roger closed out of the picture, but he felt like his eyes were so wide they could pop out of his head when he saw that wasn’t the only picture like that in the phone. The next picture was of Freddie smiling as Brian kissed his cheek. Roger didn’t exactly want to go through these pictures, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes. He thought they were all a family, meaning that they would never look at each other that way. He was straight, but even if he weren’t, he didn’t think he’d ever have interest in any of his band brothers. His mind never went there.

The next picture was both Brian and Freddie from the (bare) chest up, their heads on the same pillow. They were making silly faces at the camera. The next picture looked like it was taken only a few seconds later, but this time, Freddie’s eyes were closed and he was laughing, teeth on full display. Brian’s face was turned to him with softness in his gaze and a small smile on his face. Roger stared at the screen in disbelief. It was _weird_ seeing them so soppy with each other, but it was slowly dawning on him that he’d seen Brian look at Freddie like that before. Quite often, the more he thought about it. He had the same look on his face in the next picture, too, but this time Freddie was asleep on Brian’s shoulder.

_These fucking saps._

His buzzed brain went over the countless times he watched Freddie and Brian interact. He knew they were fond of each other but thought it was platonic. He couldn’t remember any particular instance where they seemed closer than usual. Then again, Roger was used to Freddie cozying up to Brian on stage during every performance. Had this been under his nose the whole time?

Stupidly, Roger swiped to the next picture, and regretted it. This one was of Freddie again, lying on his stomach on a bed, naked with his arse on full display with his tongue sticking out playfully.

 _Jesus, fuck, no!_ Roger quickly closed out of the phone’s gallery and put it in his pocket, a mortified flush burning his face. He saw way more of Freddie tonight than he ever wanted to. How the hell was he supposed to cope with the fact that Brian’s phone was apparently full of Freddie porn? _How long have you two been fucking?!_ he looked down helplessly at Brian. He was drunk. He might answer and not remember this in the morning.

“Brian,” Roger moved his shoulder to jostle him.

His brow furrowed with a whine.

“Brian, how long have you been with Freddie?” Maybe it wasn’t fair to ask him this when he wasn’t thinking clearly, but Roger deserved a consolation prize after seeing those pictures.

Brian smiled lazily. “Freddie.”

“Yeah, Freddie. How long?”

“Months,” he breathed. 

_Months?_

The universe decided just then would be a good time for the car to pull up to the hotel. “We’re here,” the driver said.

Roger came back to reality. “Thanks. Um, can you give me a minute to get him out of here?”

“No problem,” the driver replied. “I have drunk passengers all the time.”

Roger turned and guided Brian into an upright position, pushing past his own internal screaming. “We’re here, you’ve got to get up.”

Brian blinked lethargically, out of it.

Roger opened the car door and tugged on his hand. “Come on, up. You need to get out of the car.” He pulled on his arm. “Freddie’s inside.”

His eyes brightened slightly with understanding. “Okay.” 

_Christ, that worked._

It was sort of like helping a wobbly, newborn colt out of the car, but they did it, and Roger knocked the car door shut with his hip as he arranged for Brian to lean on him for support as they did earlier outside the bar. He was still privately reeling. _Brian and Freddie are shagging._ No wonder they always wanted to share a room.

Freddie was waiting for them in the lobby as he said he’d be. He cooed and swiftly went to wrap a steady arm around Brian’s waist. “Oh, the poor dear. Let me give you a hand, Rog.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, not up for looking him in the eye after seeing those pictures.

Freddie didn’t notice. “Let’s get him upstairs.”

“Hi, Fred,” Brian mumbled, his eyes about 25% open.

“Hello, dearie. No more bottles of vodka for you! At least when I’m not involved.”

It was late enough that the only person in the lobby was the receptionist behind the desk, who tried to hide his interested glance behind a magazine.

They all ignored him, and after shuffling along and dragging a rag doll over six feet tall, they were in the elevator.

“I’m glad you brought him back here,” Freddie said to Roger.

“I couldn’t just leave him, even if I had other plans tonight.” He flushed, though, when he remembered that Freddie and Brian had plans to stay in tonight, and those _fucking pictures_ flashed in his mind. Roger wasn’t the only one getting cockblocked from Brian being drunk, evidently.

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed, but then the elevator dinged and they’d reached their floor. 

Brian was coherent enough now to walk to the room with less support, but he made a beeline for the bed and curled up on the mattress without taking off his shoes or coat. He nuzzled the side of his face into the pillow.

Freddie put his hands on his hips. “How wonderful,” he said dryly. “I should smack all of Mott the Hoople.” He took off Brian’s shoes, maneuvered one long arm out of the sleeve of the coat, and stood there in thought for a moment. He went into mother hen mode whenever a friend was drunk or sick, but Brian was more than a friend, wasn’t he? 

Freddie leaned down, lips close to Brian’s ear. “Bri, love, can you roll over for me?”

Roger swallowed. Freddie dropped pet names at the drop of a hat, but this took on a new meaning. 

Brian’s face was peaceful and Roger thought he didn’t hear him, but then he groaned quietly and rolled over onto his other side. He never denied Freddie a request.

Freddie beamed. “Perfect.” He got Brian’s other arm out of the sleeve and put the coat on the edge of the bed. He looked at Roger in amusement. “You’ve been standing there like a statue.”

Roger shook his head, clearing his throat. “No, I’m, uh, kinda drunk.”

“I figured,” he said, and pulled the sheet off the other bed to lay over Brian, since he was atop the covers on that bed. Freddie tucked the sheet around Brian’s shoulders and pushed his absolute mess of curls away from his face. There was a small moment, easy to miss, when Freddie’s expression went tender.

Roger found himself staring, because maybe the signs really were there all along. They did always get along well, despite the rows in the studio, and adored each other. Roger and Freddie were best friends, but there was always something simply different about Freddie’s relationship with Brian. Maybe Roger wouldn’t have been gobsmacked by this discovery if he’d found out in a normal way. “Oh, uh, I’ve got his phone,” he took it out of his pocket. 

“Leave it on the bedside table, would you?”

Roger did, biting his tongue, having a hard time concealing what he knew. Something occurred to him. “You took the sheets off your bed. Where will you sleep?”

Freddie waved a hand. “I can manage with the duvet.”

Roger shoved his hands in his pockets. “You could always share.”

Freddie snorted. “I could, yes, but I’d rather not wake up with a mouthful of hair and bruises from his giraffe legs kicking me.”

Roger forced a smile to his face and he realized part of why he felt so weird. He was hurt that Freddie was lying to him. _And for months, apparently._ He thought they told each other everything. “Suit yourself.” He should have left it there, but there was a sourness curling at his lip. He didn’t like being lied to. “Why were you and Bri planning on a night in?”

Freddie froze, remembering that Roger saw his text. “We wanted to go over parts of the show.”

“We do that every time backstage,” Roger said, being a bit of a jerk.

Freddie’s lips parted. “Well, we wanted to take our time with it.” He smirked, but there was no confidence in it. “What else would we do, Rog, suck each other off?”

Roger made his cough sound like a snort of laughter at the last second. “I’m just—I’m just asking.” _God damn it, that’s exactly what they were going to do and I need to get that image out of my head!_ “I’m gonna head back to my room. I don’t feel much like going back out.” Fuck, he hated feeling embarrassed about sex. He wasn’t used to it.

Freddie relaxed. “All right, dear. You’re a good friend for bringing him back.”

“Nah,” he deflected. “You would’ve done the same thing.” _Especially for him_.

He shrugged with a grin. “I can’t help being a marvelous friend.”

He chuckled. “Course not. ‘Night, Fred.”

“Goodnight, Rog.”

When Roger returned to his room, he found John getting ready for bed. “Oh, back already?”

“I can ask you the same question,” John replied. “After awhile, I realized I was the only one left in the club and I got bored.”

“Sorry, I should’ve texted you what was going on,” Roger said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Brian was completely smashed from all that vodka he had earlier, so I brought him back here before we’d find him knocked out in a ditch somewhere.”

“Is he okay?

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll probably feel like shit in the morning, but that’s his problem.”

“And Freddie’s, since they’re roommates,” John said distractedly, drying his hair from the shower he’d evidently just had.

Roger bit his lip. He felt like he was going to explode from not talking about what he saw, but Freddie and Brian obviously wanted it to be kept secret. He didn’t want to be a bad friend, but…

“Where is Freddie, anyway?” John asked idly. “Is he in his room, too?”

“Yeah, he’s with Bri now.” _They wanted a night in._

“He’s in good hands, then. Assuming Fred wasn’t wasted, too.”

“No, he wasn’t.” He was reeling. He wanted to tell someone. He wanted to. But he found himself biting his tongue. It wasn’t like John was some stranger, and he wouldn’t go blabbing to anyone, but if Freddie and Brian were hiding it from them, they’d probably be upset if Roger told anyone. He didn’t know how to keep this secret, though, when he had to semi-live with the two of them on tour. He’d be looking at their interactions differently now.

John raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

Roger coughed lightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I’m gonna shower now.” He didn’t think he’d be able to get much sleep from getting so wound up tonight, but he was yawning by the time he got out of the shower and he didn’t want to talk about it more right now. Roger decided to block out what happened until morning. _Just don’t think about those fucking photos,_ he told himself and pulled the covers over his head.

* * *

The next morning, Freddie joined Roger and John when they grabbed breakfast downstairs. Brian wasn’t one to get out of bed early on a good day, but when he was hungover, he was impossible.

“I’m here to eat, but to catch a break, too,” Freddie said with a roll of his eyes. “I tried to coax him into human conversation, but he told me to piss off and rolled over.”

“You know how he gets,” John said between bites of toast. “It’s better to leave him to hibernate. Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t, but I should have made him drink water last night to prevent his hangover from being this bad,” he said, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth. “He said he feels awful, and you know how he hides his pain, so he must really feel like shit to admit that.”

“He passed out as soon as I brought him back to your room,” Roger reminded him. “He couldn’t have drank anything.”

“That’s true,” Freddie said, his mouth twisting to the side. He looked worried.

Roger watched his demeanor. He wanted to ask Freddie about this so badly, but not with John here. He felt uncharacteristically hesitant, too. He wasn’t a timid person by nature but he found himself chickening out every time he was about to say something this morning. It felt unnatural to be nervous around Freddie, of all people. They shared everything with each other. Or, he thought they did… _Stop being a child._

“Brian will be fine,” John said. “It’s not the first time he’s had a bad hangover.” He nudged his shoulder. “You haven’t touched your food, come on.”

“I will,” Freddie sighed. “I should probably bring Brian up a muffin. He’ll need something to settle his stomach.”

Roger wondered how the hell he missed the sheer degree in which Freddie fussed over Brian. “Don’t spoil the bastard,” he said. “He might come to expect it.”

Freddie grinned. “It’s fun to spoil Brian.”

Roger couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow.

“I win our arguments more easily that way,” Freddie added quickly, catching Roger’s scrutiny. “Blackmail, you know.”

 _He’s still trying to keep this from us!_ Roger grew annoyed. “Yeah, I get it.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin, finished with his breakfast. “I’m gonna head back up—”

“Will you bring Brian a muffin for me?” Freddie asked.

“What, why can’t you?”

“I’m not finished eating! And I don’t want to leave Deacy here alone,” he beamed.

John laughed. “I can eat breakfast on my own, Freddie.”

“Still, the faster Brian has something to eat, the better,” Freddie said.

“I don’t wanna be his bloody servant,” Roger groused. “Didn’t I look after him enough last night?” Besides, even though he knew hangovers could be lousy, he also knew Brian would be fine.

Freddie pleaded with his big eyes. “Rog,” he whined.

Roger sighed. “Fine, you prat.”

Freddie gave him his room key. “Thanks!”

Roger grabbed an individually wrapped muffin from the free buffet and felt annoyed the whole way up the elevator and to the room. “Stupid Freddie for being a caring boyfriend,” he said under his breath. Whatever, Brian was probably still asleep. Roger would just leave the food on the bedside table and maybe get him a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, too, because okay, he didn’t want Brian to be sick when he got up, either. He could admit that to himself. He didn’t knock on the door to avoid waking him, but to his surprise, Brian was awake when he entered the room.

“Oh, hey,” Roger said, clicking the door shut behind him.

Brian looked like an angry lion, mane wild and frizzy. He was sitting up against the headboard and had dark circles under his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he snapped.

Roger told himself not to react. _Brian’s always a prick when he’s hungover, it’s not worth it._ “Freddie wanted me to bring you breakfast,” he held up the muffin. “He didn’t want to wait until he was done eating downstairs with Deacy, I dunno. Here you go,” he tossed the wrapped muffin over to him.

Brian caught it and put it on the bedside table, but his glare didn’t subside. “You,” he said, and grabbed his phone from the table. “Don’t fuck around with my phone camera.”

 _Ah, that’s why a stick’s up his arse._ “I was just having fun.”

“You were being childish.”

“No, I was having a sense of humor. You’re _welcome_ for bringing you back here last night.”

He huffed. “Hm, well. Still. Don’t mess with my phone.”

“You’re the one without a password.” Seriously, who kept nudes on their phone without password protection? That was just plain dumb.

“You’re the nosy child,” Brian shot back.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t such a lightweight.”

“I don’t care,” he snarled. “You still should mind your business.”

Roger’s temper rose at Brian’s foul attitude, as it always did, and the hesitation he’d felt earlier with Freddie was diminishing fast. It was easier to confront Brian, who wasn’t naked in the pictures, and who was being a right tosser. “You could stop taking your hangover out on me.”

“I’m not,” he denied petulantly. “You’re always touching my stuff, like when you touched my guitar in the studio.”

“Oh my god, that was _months_ ago!” he bit out. “You’re seriously bringing that up now?”

“It’s a pattern of behavior,” he said with such a haughty air that Roger kind of wanted to smack him with a pillow. 

He narrowed his eyes, his blood boiling, nerves frayed from last night and the strain from keeping his mouth shut. He couldn’t take it. Brian always riled him up so easily. “Trust me, I won’t touch your phone again,” Roger said coolly. “Word of advice, by the way: maybe don’t have nudes of your boyfriend right in your camera roll for anyone to see.”

Brian instantly turned as white as the sheet that was pooled at his hips. His jaw dropped. “You—!” he shot up, but grabbed his head in pain and sat back on the mattress.

That made him feel a little guilty. “Take it easy, Brian,” he said stiffly.

“You went through my pictures?” his voice cracked. He looked torn between being furious and ill. “You saw...you saw us?” he asked faintly.

Roger should have kept his mouth shut. Damn his temper. “Okay, look, I didn’t mean to,” he said honestly. “Listen to me before you bite my head off.”

“You’ve got five seconds,” Brian said, standing up and crossing his arms. His face was murderous.

Roger did sympathize with him, and his annoyance dissipated. Mostly. “That photo I took of us? I wanted to make sure it came out okay because it was dark in the car. I went in your camera roll and saw some pictures,” he said, face heating up as his brain desperately shoved the memory aside. He cleared his throat. “I put your phone away as soon as I realized what I was looking at. I only had your phone in the first place because Freddie texted you and you were too drunk to read.”

The venom had left his expression. “Oh my god, are you actually _blushing?”_ he asked in astonishment.

“Shut up!” Roger scrubbed a hand over his face. “How would _you_ react if you saw me or Deacy like that?”

He grimaced. “God, no. No offense.”

“Trust me, none taken,” he said wearily.

Brian sank back down on the bed and put his face in his hands. “Ugh, fuck,” he mumbled into his palms, the tips of his ears turning red. “My head’s pounding. This morning sucks.”

“I’m sorry,” Roger said sincerely, because as much as he usually hated admitting he was wrong to Brian, this situation was different. It wasn’t about music at all. “I really didn’t mean to snoop.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Brian conceded, slowly lowering his hands and looking up miserably. “Now you know, I guess,” he smiled humorlessly. 

There was a pang in his chest. Ah, hell, he didn’t like Brian looking like that. “Brian, why didn’t either of you tell us?” Roger asked in exasperation. “I don’t care what you two do, but why hide it? We’re your friends.”

Brian rubbed his temple. He sighed. “We wanted to take it slow and make sure things worked out for at least a few months before we told anyone. We’re in a band together, so we knew things have the potential to get messy. We don’t want anything between us to get in the way of Queen. We agreed to wait until the six month mark before telling anyone.” His eyes lowered to the carpet. “Besides, neither of us is out to our parents yet. The press, too, they hate us already. It just...it was easier to hide,” he admitted.

Roger absorbed all of this. It may be easier to be gay now than it was 40 years ago, but people were still stupid bigots to this day and always would be, unfortunately. He knew that, even if he didn’t experience it firsthand. He didn’t blame them for hesitating to come out to their families, or for not wanting the press to know. Brian had a point about the band complicating things, too. Being in a relationship with a coworker could always lead to trouble, but particularly in this situation. If Brian and Freddie wound up having a bitter breakup, would they be able to stay in Queen? They all loved the band, but Queen was Freddie’s baby; it would devastate him if the band ended, especially if he had something to do with it. Brian would certainly never forgive himself if he led to the demise of the band. There were several good reasons for them to wait before going public.

Roger had judged them too quickly. His mouth twisted into a little frown. “You wanted to wait until you’ve been together six months to tell anyone, so I’m guessing that hasn’t happened yet?”

Brian’s lips twitched up. “It’ll be six months in two weeks.”

“Damn,” he raised his eyebrows. He really thought Freddie and Brian were bickering and giggling together as much as ever without any change. Then again, maybe they’d felt this way about each other for a long time. Plus, now that he really thought about it, he hadn’t actually seen Brian or Freddie go to bed with anyone else in quite some time. “How long have you even fancied Freddie?”

His face turned pink and he looked away. “Well, um. About...since the start, really,” he mumbled.

“Seriously?” Roger asked, unable to hide how stunned he was. “And you didn’t _tell_ me?”

“Because he started out as Tim’s mate!” Brian looked up, flush deepening. “I thought it would’ve made things weird and awkward, and you would’ve tried to set us up.”

“Yeah, probably,” he said after thinking about it for a second. “Why would that have been a bad thing, though?”

“I didn’t think he felt the same,” he said, crossing his arms like a moody child.

With the knowledge that Brian had apparently been silently pining for Freddie for years, Roger stared down at him and had a feeling he knew what happened. He knew how oblivious he was. “Let me guess: you were secretly lamenting and writing sonnets for Freddie for years while thinking it was one-sided until he got fed up and made the first move?” He knew Freddie was shy, but also unafraid to get what he wanted.

Brian’s lips parted with a few rapid blink, and then he glared at him. “Shut up. Shut _up,”_ he repeated when Roger snickered. His face was practically glowing pink.

Roger had pity and stopped laughing. Outwardly, at least. “In any case, you did do a good job of keeping it a secret.”

“Until now,” Brian said, scratching the back of his neck.

Roger grimaced. “Don’t remind me. _Please_ put those pictures in a folder or something.”

“Yeah, I will.” He rubbed his eyes. “Freddie’s gonna be cross. He was reluctant to let me take photos in the first place because he was afraid someone would see them.”

Roger shook his head. “You almost got a doctoral degree in astrophysics, but you can’t hide your porn properly.”

“Freddie’s gonna _kill_ me,” Brian moaned, putting his hand over his eyes.

Roger knew this was his fault, even if he had no idea what he was getting into last night when he went into Brian’s photo gallery. While this was all new to him, he didn’t want to cause any genuine problems between Brian and Freddie, especially since they were close to being together for half a year. _Jesus._ “All right, don’t worry,” Roger reassured him. “I’ll take the blame. Just tell him it was totally my fault and he won’t be angry for long.”

“He’s gonna break up with me,” he mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting. He just made me bring up a bloody muffin because he’s worried about your hangover. He tucked you in last night.”

“That was before,” he fretted.

Roger pinched the bridge of his nose. It was still relatively early and he didn’t have the energy to deal with Brian’s constant worrying. “Just eat your breakfast and go back to bed for a couple hours, you twit.” He left Brian in the room, curled up in the duvet and anxiously munching his muffin. Roger went back to his own room to lie down because this whole thing was giving him a headache. All because he wanted to take a funny photo of Brian. No, all because Brian didn’t know how to hide his nudes. Ugh.

* * *

A couple hours later, they were settling on the tour bus with their small crew. Freddie used to talk about how they’d have a huge bus filled with a giant crew one day, but for now, they were still building up their team. Their crew sat up front, excitedly chatting, but Roger sat in the back with a magazine. He wasn’t feeling particularly social for once and blamed it on I-saw-my-friend’s-arse syndrome. When they’d gathered in the lobby and gotten on the bus, Freddie didn’t outwardly appear any different, but there was tension in his posture only someone who knew him well could see. Meanwhile, Brian visibly looked worse for wear.

“Wow, your hangover is that bad?” John asked.

Brian sighed tiredly. “I’ll be all right,” he muttered.

Roger didn’t miss the quick glance Freddie gave Brian, and he had a feeling the pain from the hangover was actually long gone. Did he have a row with Freddie earlier? Roger didn’t want to ask with other people around who didn’t know about their relationship.

Now, though, he was startled when Freddie sat down next to him. “All right, let’s make this quick,” he said, keeping his voice low, though his eyes were sharp.

Roger vaguely felt like a schoolboy about to be scolded. He lowered the magazine. “What?”

Freddie’s face was impassive, or trying to be. “You found out.”

“Yeah.” He was unnerved because Freddie never looked this way around him. He closed the magazine. “I’m sorry, mate. It was an accident,” he said truthfully. 

“I know,” he said, but didn’t look any less irritated. He was rubbing his fingertips together on his right hand. “Well, there you have it. If you don’t want to see anything more you don’t like, I suggest staying away from both of our phones,” he said, eyes steely.

Ignoring the implication that Freddie had nudes of Brian, too, Roger watched him fidget and took in the hard expression on his face. This was so unlike Freddie, unless...Roger suddenly remembered the very few times Freddie hinted at unpleasant experiences during his upbringing regarding his sexuality. Was he afraid of how Roger would react, after all they’d been through? 

“Fred, you know it’s fine, right?” he asked, unaware of the gentling of his voice. 

Freddie lifted his chin. “Obviously,” he said with fake bravado. 

_Damn, Freddie._ He really thought Roger would have a problem with it. He dealt with so much more shit than he let on. Roger’s chest hurt a little. “Well, good, ‘cause it _is_ fine,” he asserted. He looked ahead, making sure everyone else on the bus was engaged in conversation. “I was surprised, yeah, but you know, that’s just ‘cause I’ve known you two for years and I never would’ve guessed.” But he thinks he should have, considering how Freddie always gravitated towards Brian, and only Brian, on stage.

Freddie’s tone was enigmatic. “I see.”

Roger wanted to reassure him and punch any piece of shit that made him feel afraid to be himself around his friends, but a tour bus wasn’t a good place for a heart-to-heart. Besides, people might hear. He looked back at him. “I know why you didn’t, but you could’ve told me anytime.”

“I know,” Freddie said, posture loosening slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he said, his eyes turning unguarded again, as they usually were around Roger.

He knew Roger enough to know that had bothered him without him having to say it. Roger shook his head. “It’s all right, Brian explained it. I think you should tell John, though.”

“Probably,” he said, not looking too happy about it.

“He’s not gonna mind,” he reassured him. He didn’t talk about it with John, but he doubted he’d be an arse about this. It distressed him to know that Freddie worried so much about what they would think, though. They were brothers. “We both just want you to be happy.” Roger paused for a beat. “Does he treat you right?” he asked quietly. That was what mattered.

“Yes, he does,” Freddie said without hesitation, still keeping his voice down. “He’s been very good. He…” A small, soft smile appeared and he looked down. “He’s better than the others.”

 _Thank fuck for that._ “Good.”

But Freddie kept talking, his tone apologetic. “I didn’t mean to keep secrets from you. I only wanted to keep this to myself until a considerable amount of time passed _because_ I know this is different—in case he broke up with me, you see. That way I could lick my wounds in private.”

That made Roger wrinkle his brow in confusion. “Hang on, you’re that worried he’s going to break up with you?”

His face closed off and he sniffed, shrugging a shoulder and looking away.

Roger knew of Freddie’s insecurity and his fear of abandonment, although he hid it all well. But this wasn’t something Brian had mentioned when talking about their reasons for staying closeted. “Brian doesn’t know this, does he,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Freddie’s eyes snapped back to him. “Don’t tell him.”

 _What a couple of pieces of work._ “Freddie,” Roger groaned, “Brian was just worrying himself into a fit this morning because he was afraid _you’d_ break up with _him.”_

Light entered his eyes. “Really?” he asked in relief.

Roger wanted to bang his head against a wall. “You two will be the death of me, won’t you?” he muttered. How could two men who were so smart be so stupid?

“Perhaps,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“God, Fred, stop being like him and worrying so much. It seems like he really cares for you.” _If that album full of photos is anything to go by._ “It’s almost six months, eh?” he said, knocking their shoulders together lightly.

Freddie covered his teeth with his upper lip when he smiled widely. “Nearly,” he murmured.

It would take a little getting used to for Roger to see Freddie getting shy over _Brian,_ of all people. It was kind of endearing, though. “Can’t believe you were so good at hiding it all that time. You’re not good at keeping secrets.”

“True,” he admitted. His soft smile turned into a smirk. “But I’ve told you more about him than you know.”

“You have?” 

“Every sex story I’ve told you in the past six months has been about him,” he said smoothly.

Okay: Freddie was in a good mood again. Hooray? Roger didn’t really know how to react, so he just nodded. “Yep. Uh. Makes sense.” Time to flush all of those conversations out of his brain. “Never thought you’d have a clog kink,” he said under his breath.

Freddie giggled and swatted his arm. “I’ll have you know they come _off_ in the bedroom.”

“I’m glad you’re not totally mad, then,” he deadpanned. Looking around the bus, his eyes found Brian, slumped in his seat and looking out the window. “What did you do to him, anyway? He looks worse than when I saw him this morning.”

“Oh,” Freddie glanced at Brian from over his shoulder, “I yelled at him for not setting a stupid passcode for his phone.”

“That would’ve avoided things, yeah. But it was still my fault,” Roger said, because he didn’t like the idea of causing rifts between them.

“Yes, but I like being dramatic,” Freddie mused. “I should go sit with them before he truly gets in a strop.” He got up and ran his hands over his shirt, straightening out the wrinkles. He gave Roger a little smile and wink before sitting next to Brian.

Roger picked up his magazine again. Well, that went better than he'd expected. 

* * *

Later that night, when they were getting dressed and ready for the show, Roger noticed Freddie and Brian had slipped out of the big, shared dressing room. 

“Where’s Fred and Brian?” a roadie asked.

Roger stopped combing his hair. Were they stupid enough to be in a compromising position in a place where they could easily be outed? “I’ll look for ‘em,” he said loudly. “They’re probably just, er, around.” He left the room quickly before anyone could join him or go looking for them instead. _You better not be shagging,_ Roger thought as he looked around in the hallway leading to backstage, and sighed in relief when he found them fully dressed in a corner.

They were wearing their white tunics, and Freddie was leaning against the wall and looking down. Brian was speaking to him, but too quietly for Roger to hear. Whatever it was, Freddie nodded and looked up at him expectantly. Brian cupped his chin, tipped his head up, and kissed him.

Roger’s eyebrows raised, but only a little. He’d seen much more on Brian’s phone, after all. Speaking of which, Roger took out his phone and quickly snapped a picture of them to send them later. He pocketed his phone and cleared his throat.

They broke apart abruptly, but relaxed when they saw it was him.

“Roger,” Brian scolded with a glare.

“You’re lucky it’s me who found you, you know,” he said.

“He’s right,” Freddie admitted sheepishly. “Let’s go back, Bri.”

The concert went well and the little incident was forgotten, until Roger was back in his hotel room. He sent Brian the photo he’d snapped earlier because, even though he would keep their secret, he was still going to make fun of them, just a little.

 _“Can’t go a sec without snogging, eh?_ **_😘🙄_ ** _”_ he sent with the picture. Roger then deleted the picture from his phone because he knew better than Brian, thank you.

About a minute later, Brian texted him back. It was a picture of him and Freddie kissing in bed (from the neck up, thank god) while they both gave the middle finger to the camera.

Brian: _Fuck off. -Bri_

That...was fair, Roger could admit.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this didn't suck!
> 
> I'm on tumblr under the same name~~


End file.
